Thou Dost Remind Me of My Babe
by Serenity Stardust
Summary: It's been a few months since the almost-apocalypse and things are trucking on. Crowley and Aziraphale are finally able to live their lives the way they want to. But can they both live a life together? Especially when something very new and very familiar enters the into the mix? - This is straight up Ineffable Husbands fluff. This is just something I wrote for spits and giggles.


**I mean... I could say to go easy on me because it's my first ineffable husbands fic, but honestly... read me for absolute FILTH if you want. Idgaf. I wanted to write this, so I wrote it. It's cute and it's short. So what the heck?**

**Stick to it until the end. I really think you'll enjoy it.**

**Edit: I didn't have anyone edit this. It was a pretty raw submission. I am catching mistakes as I go through. My apologies in advance.**

_O.o_

_"Life starts all over again  
__when it gets crisp in the fall."_

_~F. Scott Fitzgerald_

_O.o_

Autumn is quite an auspicious season, but it is not a shy one. It slithers its chill right behind the lovely morning dew and misty fog. It is gentle with its force of gravity as it pulls the luscious leaves of mother earth down to the damp streets of Soho. Yet as gentle as the Autumn may seem to be, it is also plays its role of the cold and numbing slumber that snakes its way through to the peaceful, mournful death that becomes of Winter. Autumn is not a force to be reckoned with, and with time, every being that is able to experience it will understand just how mighty of a part it plays.

The city streets are bustling outside of the bookshop. The cloudy day gathers its light from the distant rays of the sun. The air is quite cool and every human donts a lovely fall coat and scarf to match. The faint hum of Sebastian Bach's _Little Fugue in G Minor _can be vaguely heard from one corner of the shop as a kind looking, lightly-colored haired Angel rummages his nimble fingers through every title on every shelf. He straightens up his cream colored jacket as he takes inventory of his rather regal and rare collection of books.

Aside from the hustle of the ever moving crowd outside of the double doors, the atmosphere inside is so light, nothing but the flicker of the candle can be heard. This makes this morning solemn and nice.

That is until the door bursts open with connected bells that jingle in a surprised tone. The well tailored angel spins around to see a familiar red headed sauntering Demon gliding through the door, clad in scattered dark clothing, while sporting a messy tie and round sunglasses to boot.

"Good morning Crowley." The angel warmly smiles.

"Aziraphale," the demon responds, "sleep well?" Crowley's lanky body stumbles around as he haphazardly looks around the shop.

"I still haven't quite fully mastered that activity yet. At least not on my own." Aziraphale responds as he closes his inventory journal.

"Aww, you didn't have any cuddle buddies while I was gone?" Crowley asks, knowing that the angel would avoid his gaze.

"I don't _need _sleep. Neither of us _need _sleep." Aziraphale quips with the tinge of attitude. "But after three weeks in the America's, I can understand the need to sleep off _that _jetlag."

"Oh, you're missing out, Angel." Crowley looks towards his comrade. "Things really start to heat up when the dreaming mode is unlocked." Leaning up against a bookcase, he presses a long finger, complete with black nail polish, at the center of his own forehead.

"Dreams are but a figment of the imagination. They serve as projectors for human minds to sort through information that had gathered throughout the day. It is a very human trait, and we have adopted more than enough of those already."

"You'd change your mind if you saw the dreams that I have at night." Crowley's suggestive disposition is more than enough for Aziraphale to blush.

"Well," Aziraphale's eyes wander away from Crowley's direction, "as intriguing as that may sound, sleep has yet to knock on the door to my subconscious, and I find enjoyment when I keep myself busy." He continues to avoid eye contact with the demon as he sits at his desk.

"Oh, but it's fun. You like to have fun." The demon says as he slowly strides his body towards his friend on the other side of the room.

"I have plenty of fun."

"You work too much." Crowley is quick to respond. "All work and no play can make for a grumpy Angel, indeed." He leans himself against Aziraphale's desk with the look of two piercing yellow eyes leering over the shades on the demon's face.

"I am just as satisfied with a lovely cup of tea and the sound of falling rain. I do not need to waste time within the littered subconscious of the inner workings of my mind in order to 'play'." Aziraphale quotes the air.

"Come on," Crowley creeps just a little closer towards the angel's face. Aziraphale notes that he is a little closer than usual, though the demon really never really had an eye for personal space. "it'll do you a world of good-" Crowley pauses as they both feel a sudden twinge.

"Well... I do seem to find myself a little on edge as of late." Aziraphale's eyes dart around the room. "Maybe some rest might not be a bad idea."

"You feel it, too?" Crowley's eyes do not leave the angel's.

Aziraphale releases a small sigh. He does admit that there is a different feeling around them these days. "Yes."

"Something is about to happen, and I don't like the feel of it." The demon leaps to his feet as he looms his eyes over the entire store. His catlike eyes focus on every corner and every crevice.

"It takes a lot for the universe to fall into a new state of being, dear." The angel speaks with a kindness that can only come from an Angel of God. "We are headed for a new path. I can imagine that matters such as these take time to mend."

"Ugh, you make my head hurt." Crowly groans with a dramatic hiss.

"Is that my doing, or perhaps could it be the forgetful action of sobering up before hitting the pillows?" Aziraphale smugly asks, knowing the demon's personal demons.

"Armageddon was months ago-"

"Meer moments, comparatively speaking."

"But it's... weird." Crowley says as he forcibly turns away from the angel. "The children are too weird. I don't like it."

"Children?" Aziraphale pauses to look to the demon. "What do you mean?"

"Wha-" Crowley sits a little confused. "The... the children- kids, babies, the tiny human spawns are just... everywhere!"

"Children are everywhere?" Aziraphale asks in his own confusion.

"Yes!"

The angel chuckles. "Surely you are more observant through the centuries, dear boy. Children have been around since Cain and Abel."

Crowley scoffs. "I know that!"

"My apologies, Crowley. I'm not sure I fully understand what you mean, then."

"It's... just..." Crowley grunts in frustration at himself. "They're showing up."

"You really haven't sobered up yet-"

"No- I mean they're around me, now. All the time." Crowley crunches his face at the thought.

Aziraphale can't keep from a smile. "The children?"

"All children! It's like all the sudden I'm the embodiment of bloody Santa Claus." Crowley finally plops himself upon one of the comfy chairs that are littered around the bookshop. Aziraphale is eager for Crowley to explain himself. "Before all that Armageddon crap, I rarely dealt with anyone under the age of adolescence, other than the not-so-antichrist, but now... I don't know. It's as if I am suddenly... aware that they EXIST." Crowley roughly rubs his face with the palms of his hands.

"I find it quite difficult to not see children in existence." Aziraphale replies with his own thoughts. "Children are spry and full of energy. They are blissfully unaware of the reality of their own existence, and love to play with the world around them."

"They're a menace to society-"

"They're naïve." Aziraphale adds.

"They get themselves into situations and are too stupid to get themselves out of them, and because of their blantant disregard for common sense, they obviously need some hel-" Crowley suddenly stops.

"Oh?" Aziraphale catches what Crowley was going to blurt out.

"Wait-"

"You're... helping children?"

"That's NOT what I said-" Crowley's blatant lie is wasted on the angel to his right. Seeing the familiar look on his friend's face causes him to fumble.. "No-no Angel, get that stupid look off of your face. You have no idea what I was going to say."

"It's okay, dear." Aziraphale's tone is riddled in a tease. "Your little secret is safe with me." His smile seems to light up the room just a little bit more. "To be honest, I, too, have recognized a surplus of children around since our... unique spectacle a few months ago."

"See?"

"But I hardly find it odd. It's like seeing a familiar car. Once you familiarize yourself with a vehicle, you start to see it everywhere."

"Any vehicle but mine." Crowley's humorous retort helps his shoulders release some of their tension. The sound of Aziraphale's soft chuckle helps Crowley ease up from the morning chill.

"Our perception has changed, Crowley." Aziaphale's voice pulls the demon back to the conversation. "It was miraculous to watch the events unfold with those heroic children. We had no idea how we were going to stop the world from coming to an end, and children eradicated the very idea in a matter of moments. Things like this can put many things in perspective, my dear."

Crowley grumbles at the idea. "I don't like it. I'm not a... kid person."

"Go ahead and keep telling yourself that, dear. Though I seem to remember a time where you were quite concerned for the well being of kids." Aziraphale's face says it all.

"Animals! Animals need looking after. Humans however-"

"Well then, might I tempt you with a little something to take your mind off of things, if only for a few hours," Aziraphale sifts through the top drawer and pulls out two tickets to hand to the demon. Crowley looks to see that they are tickets to a lovely museum exhibit of some classic Queen memorabilia, as well as a mini-documentary of Freddie Mercury. Crowley mentioned something about this a few weeks prior while he and Aziraphale had a lunch date at a new restaurant that opened around the corner. It doesn't surprise him that the angel remembered.

"Are you trying to woo me, angel?" The demon's toothy grin shows itself as his eyes loom over his respective circular shades.

Aziraphale stands wit grace. "Who says I have to try?" he smoothly responds as he walks towards the door to turn the sign from _Open _to _Closed _.

"Maybe they'll finally have the leather jacket that I lent him. I told him I wanted it back, and of course the bastard went to Heaven..." Crowley continues to murmur as Aziraphale opens the double doors to let Crowley out first. Crowley starts for the exit, but not before freezing in his tracks. Aziraphale notices the stumble and they both look down to see something eerily familiar, and quite frightening to Crowley. Both the angel and the demon slowly approach a very odd object with weary eyes.

It is naught but a simple cardboard box that sits open and on the outer steps of the doorway. The box is quite simple, and a little damp from the morning dew. Inside of the box, however, is a different story.

"That's a..."

"...baby."

Both the angel and the demon blink very confusedly. Neither of them have any idea how to move. All of this is ridiculously coincidental, and there is a plethora of subliminal messages being sent from one metaphysical being to another. The child is wrapped inside of a grey blanket, and sleeps soundly in the hurried streets of the morning. It is odd to see many, upon many people that pass by this box with unnerved cares for the infant that lay soundly in their slumber.

Overwhelmed with sudden emotion, Aziraphle wastes no time picking up the box and hauling it inside of the shop. "Lock the door, please dear."

"What the heaven are you doing?" Crowley's question hits a nerve within Aziraphale. "Do you even know what that is?"

The angel sighs, "I believe referred to it as a tiny human spawn." Aziraphale's blunt response causes an eyebrow to pop up on the demon's head.

"You know what I mean." Crowley remains close to the door. "What the hell is it doing here? On your doorstep?"

"I truly don't know. But there is a note here." Aziraphale says as he pulls out a piece of paper out from inside the blanket. " It says:

_"~_ _Do I deserve more than I have? Do I deserve happiness? I did not ask to be born, yet here I am. What happens to me next is for you to decide.~"_

Crowley finally locks the door and slowly makes his way closer. "Angel, everything about this feels very... off."

Aziraphale understand the demons words. "But..."

"Do you really think this is a good idea bringing this thing in here, anywhere around us?" Crowley points his direction towards the babe in the box.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, Crowley?" The angel is torn as he struggles not to shout. Luckily, he is more concerned about getting the baby into a warmer, less damp blanket. "It looks to be no bigger than an infant."

"That's even worse!" Crowley's fear of the unknown starts to really show. "You need to get rid of it."

These words cause Aziraphale to hug the infant close to his body. "You can't just get rid of it, Crowley. It doesn't have anywhere to go."

"Of course you can. The one who conceived it didn't have a problem dropping it on some random doorstep. Why can't you do the same thing?" Crowley believed this to be some very solid advice.

"That is precisely my point." Aziraphale stands his ground. "This child has no one. No mother, no father-"

"That's what adoption is for, angel."

"You know good and well what those poor children go through inside that horrid system." The angel manages to hold the infant even tighter.

"Yes, yes. I know. You're good." Crowley can sense that Aziraphale is becoming defensive. "You're always so... damn good." This causes Crowley's demeanor to soften for the kind-hearted dolt in front of him. His voice softens as he speaks. "But this is part of human life, angel. We can't mess with that."

Aziraphale looks to him with very confused eyes. "Since when?"

"Anymore." Crowley rolls his eyes. "This is ridiculous."

"You think everything I do is ridiculous."

"Seriously?" Now Crowley starts to become defensive. "For someone as smart as you are, you really impress me with stupid you can sound, sometimes." This comment causes a small silence between the angel and the demon. Crowley continues, "I'm done sticking my neck out for this species. You should be, too. We kept from the end of the world. Let humanity destroy themselves from here on out. What we really need is a vacation."

"We could really give this child a chance, Crowley-"

"Whoa- 'we'?" Crowley backs away. "There's no 'we' in this."

Aziraphale scoffs. "Well, it's not like we've never done this before."

"Oh yeah. And look at how splendidly it all worked out last time?!" Crowley's temper starts to rise.

The angel deeply inhales as his eyes drop from the demon's. He purses his lips together as he tries to keep his own temper at bay. Before anything else is said, a slight whimper can be heard from the damp blanket bundle inside of Aziraphale's arms. He watches as the infant child opens their large, doll-like eyes in a slight fuss. The baby's eyes pierce their wily gaze up to the angel in a way that is foreign to him.

A sudden surge of emotion starts to radiate from him. This is a new sensation. "Well, we did stop the world from ending." The angel finds his voice. "And we are here, right now, and there was a time where we didn't think this was possible." It is Aziraphale's turn to find Crowley's eyes as they hide behind the dark lenses. The demon struggles with a response. "With all things considered, it could have been a lot worse."

Crowley listens to the angel with intent. He can hear through the tone of the angel's voice that his heart is quickly growing for this sudden child. He gazes at the little speck of a head, but is afraid to look directly at it.

"This is just... too odd, angel. I'm not going to have any part of this. Not again." Crowley slowly turns from his friend.

Aziraphale can just barely sense it, but there is... something about this child. He can't really tell what it is he is feeling, but keeping this child is what truly feels right. He doesn't know what is going on, and he can wholeheartedly agree with Crowley on one aspect; this is a very odd instance, indeed. But regardless of the unease, Aziraphale is going to do what feels right to him.

"You don't have to." The angel's words burst from his vocal chords. The sudden demand in his voice causes Crowley to deeply inhale. "I can do this on my own."

"Angel,"

"It's only a few decades at the most." Aziraphale's insistence causes further distance between the ethereal couple. He slowly and gingerly unwraps the child. The angel's face animates to a ridiculous degree upon seeing the curious face of the infant.

Crowley finally cracks. "For six centuries we've been busting our asses to get our freedom, and this is how you wish to spend it?"

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind either, my dear, but we should always be willing to work with the unexpected." The child is finally seen wearing dirty, holey clothing, as if they were a beggar on the street.

"It's gonna get bigger."

"This child can be raised properly."

"The amount of liquid that comes out of every end of one of these-"

"But their laughter is like no other."

"It needs to be with actual human people."

"I won't have to live in disguise. I can raise them as myself, this time."

"It's going to get sick."

"I can make it well."

"Not with power, you can't."

"Why not? Miracles practically go unnoticed on my end of things when they involve children."

"If you'll remember, we are kind of incognito. Our respective... creatures have finally lost our scent. This is the perfect kind of thing to have them coming after us again. Do you really want this child to go through that?"

"There are loopholes, Crowley." Aziraphale refuses to give up. "We've found them before, and we will find them again."

"That's the thing, Aziraphale. I don't want to do this again." Crowley's response sounds grounded and unbreakable. Such a sound causes the angels face to fall. Crowley scrambles to stay strong on his side of things. "It also needs a name, it needs identification, it needs to be taught how to use the bloody toilet, for Satan's sake. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to create a fake identity? Do you know how wrong it is to create a fake identity? There is so much that goes into a façade like this. You won't do it."

"No I won't." Aziraphale admits. "But I do believe that I might know someone with that kind of connection." He knowingly looks to the redhead that is currently doing everything he can not to look to the eyes of the angel before him.

Done with this discussion, Crowley sighs a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I just can't do this again." His voice is more solemn this time around, as he slowly makes his way towards the door.

"Crowley-" Aziraphle's voice blurts unexpectedly. This causes the demon pauses in his steps. "Please..." he continues to plead for the life that he currently holds in his hands. Crowley struggles, but does not look back. He does not dare to look into the saddened eyes of the angel or the large doe-like eyes of the whiny infant at hand. He just waves his small goodbye and walks out of the shop.

Aziraphale's eyes have saddened considerably at Crowley's decision. Part of him does understand the demons distress to the situation, but he'd honestly hoped to get at least some support from his friend. They have conquered so much throughout existence, and this is just another assignment that the angel has decided to take on. Aziraphale has made up his mind. This child was all alone in this world, just like him... though, for a brief moment in time, he didn't think that he was.

His thoughts continue to ramble as he eases the restless infant in his hands. The baby cries in confusion and desperation, not knowing where their mother has gone, but the aura around the angel calms the infant instantaneously. There is a warmth that radiates from Aziraphale that is like no other, and the light that surrounds this metaphysical being emanates a unique and lovely kind of unconditional love. All living things within a block radius can feel this shock wave of emotion that shines through the angel, and with this comfort, the baby melts from tears to giggles in a matter of moments.

When Aziraphale turns back to the box that sits upon the top of his mess of a desk he is instead greeted by a clean and tidy work area, as well as an abundance of materials such as a bassinet, diapers, clothing, formula, and black folder inside of the bed. He switches the baby for the folder and opens to see verification papers, a social security number, and a birth certificate with the name space empty for the final naming decision.

Aziraphale's eyes glisten with tears that threaten at the tips of his eyes. He silently thanks the Almighty for the incredibly kind gesture that he just knows came from the big-hearted demon whom so convinced the angel that he would want nothing to do with this. Picking an outfit to change the nameless child into, Aziraphale quickly learns the sex of the baby, but struggles with what to name them. Wrapping them in a fresh, new multi-colored blanket, he guessed how long it would be before Crowley would show his face again. Days? Weeks? Years? Ever?

For a moment Aziraphale's mind comes to a halt as he looks out into the large window. The child has calmed themselves considerable as It starts to rain. This is the exact atmosphere for Aziraphale to catch his own kind of sleep. All he needs is a hot cup of tea and a book to lose himself among the patter of raindrops. Preferably a book on how to properly raise a child. Another chuckle can be heard from the bassinet that lay right next to the Angel in question. As he looks to the child with adorned eyes, he notices the endless leaves falling from the many trees that line the sidewalks across the street. This child quite literally fell into Aziraphale's arms, so that would be an appropriate name.

Grabbing the black folder, he pulls out the birth certificate, and grabs a quill from his desk. Sitting down, he dips the large feather within some fresh ink and puts a rather appropriate name on the dotted line.

"Your name is now, and will forever be Autumn."

_O.o_

That very day, by the brink of dusk, the red headed demon barges in through the doors of the bookshop with two fist fulls of alcoholic bottles.

"Crowley?"

"Angel, dear." Crowley's voice booms within the room, already somewhat buzzed with a warm breath that reeks of liquor. He raises his hands in the air as an offering to the lovely looking angel in his eyes. "Let's talk."

And boy did they talk.

The rest of the night is spent with an extremely tired infant, a bickering angel and demon on what the next step should be, and a small nap session as the respective metaphysical beings make the choice not to sober up, but rather succumb to the joys of a dreaming sleep as they entangle themselves upon a couch in a darkened corner of the bookstore.

What a thing this... Autumn is going to turn out to be with an angel and a demon as their new parental guides.

_O.o_

**Listen.**

**This is something that I just needed to do. I really wanted more of the goofy story with the nanny and the gardener in the show. I was READY for a Timon and Pumba kind of a relationship where they meet their Simba, but I didn't get that. So I made my own. I don't know if I will keep writing for this... BUT it could be cute if I added dabbles here and there. Watching the growth of a human that is being raised by our favorite ineffable husbands could be a fun thing to play with, so who knows! I work in childcare, and have been for about 15 years, so I have my own experience as a driving force. You might see a story here and there. We shall see. But for now, I must say, ta-ta! I hope you enjoyed.**


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